It's still weird going into work on a day off. Two years ago he never would've done it. Even now he tries not to – of course, everyone knows the deal. It may be Lola's aunt who brings her in every Saturday to see her mother, and it may be her address on every official document, but it's common knowledge who she lives with, who's raising her. He can even sneak in the occasional brush against Daya's shoulder and a mutter of "she smiled today" or "she's going to say Mama any day now, I know it", and Caputo smiles as he turns a blind eye.

Better him than Mendez, he thinks to himself.

Anyway, here he is, a dark red sweater and jeans instead of the blue shirt and black pants. He knows it doesn't matter how he looks, that Lola is the star today – every day, always, the way it should be – but Daya's never seen him in civilian clothes before. He wants to look smart, but casual, but kinda hot, but also… fatherly. Craning his neck to check his reflection in the rearview mirror, he realises that's how he always looks these days. Tired, stressed, constantly worried… but happy. Probably the happiest he's ever been. Just to the left of his own face, he sees the car seat behind him. He grins.

"Ready, baby?"

He unfastens his seatbelt, climbs out of his car and opens the rear door so he can scoop up his little girl, tiny bubble forming at her mouth as she burbles at him. She's got Daya's eyes. He knows his own eyes are brown too, but she seems… artistic, somehow. More thoughtful than he ever was when he was a kid, maybe more than he is now. All he can think is how much he loves this tiny thing, more than anything in the world, but that now it's all going to get that much better. Now it can really begin.

"Now you've got to look extra cute today, okay mija?" He's tried to teach himself some Spanish. He hopes it'll get him on Aleida's good side. As far as he can tell, it hasn't worked so far. Lola's staring blankly at him. "Okay, okay, I know, you always look cute, but you've got to give me a big smile today, right? For Mommy?"

He pulls a face at her, all scrunched up, then plants loud, smacking kisses on her cheek until she squeals with laughter.

"That's more like it. Let's go, gorgeous."

He cuddles her close, tucking her scarf around her neck, kissing the top of her head every other minute without even realising, and they go inside. He'd come half an hour early, thinking he'd be there way before he could see her, but it looks like the others have tried to do him a few favours this morning. She's there. He feels like an ass for not making more of an effort, because she looks stunning even behind the tall, wire gate. It's a shitty lobby in a shitty prison, but with Daya standing there, red dress (not allowed, but strings are there to be pulled) flowing over her hips and swishing around her knees, the blonde in her hair touched up (thank you Sophia), it feels like a ballroom, like the Ritz, like heaven. And then there's that smile. Every time he's seen it before now, he's known it was about to disappear, but not now. Now he can keep that smile around forever.

Bell hands Daya's bag to her, gives her shoulder a squeeze.

"Take care of yourself, Miss Diaz."

Daya barely hears her, too busy smiling, mouthing 'hi, baby' to her daughter.

There's a low buzz, a heavy clunk, and the door swings open. She runs out, and John runs to meet her, and they collide. She fits neatly under his arm where she stays for a moment, eyes closed. It's been so long since she's been held like this, not scared or rushed but completely safe. He smells so good, and feels so warm. His sweater's soft against her cheek. She can feel Lola's breath on the tip of her nose, and that's what makes her open her eyes.

"Can-" her voice breaks, "Can I?"

John smiles, the way he's longed to smile at her for so long.

"Whenever you want."

He passes the baby over and watched as Daya kisses her and hugs her and bounces her on her hip.

"I'm coming home, baby. Did you hear that? You're not leaving me behind in here any more. I'm gonna come home with you and Daddy, and I'm gonna be there while you grow up, and learn to walk, and say your first words, and go to school… I'm not gonna miss another second, my beautiful little girl. My baby."

He wraps both of them up, kissing Daya's hair and trying to pull her ever closer, never close enough.

"Daya," he whispers, "you wanna get out of here?"

"Oh," she sighs, smiling at her baby and her boyfriend (not officer, not guard, boyfriend) in turn, "you have no idea."

They walk outside and she sucks in a deep breath of cool, spring air. They walk to the car, hand in hand for the first time. He notices how she keeps closing her eyes for a few seconds at a time, and a tear rolls down her cheek as she buries her hair in Lola's soft curls.

"Something wrong?"

She smiles.

"Yeah. I don't like you anymore. Guess it was just the uniform. But it's too late to change my mind now."

His laugh is an ugly snort, and she matches it with an undignified honk of her own.

"Understandable. I guess I can sleep on the couch until you find somebody hotter."

"Nuh-uh. I promised my mom I'd make the most of having a man and a house all to myself."

"W-well it's just an apartment, it's nothing special, I- oh. Oh." His eyes widen. "Okay. No problem."

She laughs and jiggles the baby at her side.

"Isn't he so silly, your papi? Such a silly daddy, your poor thing."

He squeezes her hand, and she squeezes it back, tugging him close enough to nose at his shoulder. He kisses her hair.

"Daya, I'm- I'm so-" he pauses. Breathes in and out. Tries again. "I'm so happy. So glad you're out. Glad you're here." Nothing sounds right, nothing's quite enough, but she looks like she gets it.

"Me too." She stops walking, and when he looks back to see why she gets up on her tiptoes, black shoes getting dusty from the gravel, and kisses him. It's open and proud and everything. Their noses still touching, she says it. "Take me home."

They get in the car, her in the back so she can keep holding Lola's hand and taking her in, still babbling away about where she wants to go, what she wants to eat, the things she can't wait to do with him (many of which make him stutter and blush), and he smiles as he listens. His whole world is right here in this car, and John Bennett and Dayanara Diaz don't have to hide anymore.

They eat and they just spend time together, two parents and their daughter, and when she's sleeping more easily than ever before, now that her mother has been there to put her to bed, they go to their own bed and they fuck. Boy, do they fuck.

They're loud. They sprawl out. They leave marks. They do all they haven't been able to do before. They've found ways to be together – they must have done or so much would be different now – but Daya wonders how it ever felt like enough. They've never even seen each other completely naked before now, and she doesn't know what to do, where to look when John pulls back to take all of her in. There's an instinct to cover herself with an arm, cover the stretchmarks and the imperfections, but she is brave. She lets him look, and he makes her so glad she did. He looks nothing short of awestruck. He takes her face in one hand and kisses her, while his other arm comes down to gather her close. He strokes lovingly over her, letting out a shaky breath as she tugs at his belt. When she has him flat on his back, she takes a moment to pick up his leg – he flinches for a beat but relaxes – and just hold it to her face. She needs him to know it's fine, that she loves it as just another part of him, and she closes her eyes with the lumpy, uneven skin cool against her cheek. She presses a kiss to his knee.

Once or twice they do have to shush each other, but the only person who they can disturb is Lola. They can be quiet for her, and when the rustling on the baby monitor dies down, they giggle and shift and start to rock together again.

Daya gulps down some water – so clear, so cool – before lying down, her cheek on John's chest. They're panting, sweaty, spent. She keeps him inside her for as long as she can. She knows it's silly, that he's not going anywhere, that this isn't going to be snatched away from her, but this moment, this night, it's all too perfect to let it go. Even like this, she still feels an urge to be closer to him. Tucked under his chin, his fingers teasing her hair, will have to do for tonight. He hisses a little as he slips out, and she smiles a 'sorry' and taps out a slow rhythm on his chest with her fingertips. She keeps pressing light kisses to his skin. It makes him smile.

"We've never done this before."

"I know."

She gazes into the darkness, and even though she can't see anything she knows it's a different space to the last one she slept in.

"You know what I can't wait to do?"

"Tell me."

"I can't wait to wait up next to you. That's gonna be amazing. Waking up touching you. With your arms holding me."

His eyes are falling closed. She can feel him loosening, drifting into sleep, and even that makes her smile again. They're spending the night together.

"You know," he's barely stifling a yawn, "there's only one way to make that happen." He folds his other arm around her waist, ready to burrow down for what's left of the night.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I go see her again first?"

He figures his muscles can hold out for a little longer. For her. For them. He kisses her forehead, gives her a squeeze, and pushes himself up, lifting her with him.

"Whenever you want."